Took a train outta New Orleans MCR Oneshot
by GothicToeLicker
Summary: Killjoys find themselves back in 2002 and meet up with their past selves when they accidentally kidnap Ray! Craziness ensues. Rated T for language. Read more inside.


**I have read a LOT of fanfics, like a lot a lot. I have also read a lot of shitty fanfics. Not just for MCR. For Ouran, Death Note, Hetalia, FMA, Black Butler, HTTYD, random books and movies, Black Veil Brides, Green Day… TOO FUCKING MUCH! A lot for MCR though. **

** Anyways, I read one Death Note fanfic that was just really really random, had a lot of weird stuff happen, and although it kinda sucked, I loved how complicated and just strange it was. I kinda tried to style this after that, and failed. There's a few too many heartfelt moments… whatever. Read it anyways, it'll be fun. Tell them the stuff, Gee.**

**Gerard: author does not own the band, or any members, nor does she own the killjoys or any other characters. Only in her mind, along with the voices that talk to her.**

**WARNING: time travel, kidnapping, van stealing, more kidnapping, vomit, reckless driving, mentions of alcohol, murder, even more kidnapping, jail, men in unicorn suits, mikey nonsense, nonsexual spanking of a young adult, WAY too much cussing- I need to stop that shit, heart-felt moments, homosexual onstage frerard flirting, Frank impersonating a cat, foot shooting, five in the morning talks on the roof, and mentions of sexual activity that never actually happen. **

**But the best part… NO SEX! Not that I don't like kinky fanfics, but there are just TOO many for me to add onto that. SO this one has NO Sex. **** wah la! It can be done.**

**Enjoy bitches! **

TWICE so far Ray had gotten left behind at gas stations. They were on tour for their second year, working on ideas for their second album, and he'd already gotten left behind TWICE. But no, that wasn't enough. Of course the one time he actually stayed in the van during a pit stop, he didn't get left behind, he got KIDNAPPED! What the actual fuck!?

So it started, Ray had claimed the very back bench as his own and was sleeping soundly with ear buds plugged into his ears. The guys must have stopped at a truck stop, but seeing Ray was asleep, decided not to wake him. Nice of them at first, but it turned into a nightmare.

Ray woke up when the van lurched forward expectantly and he rolled off the bench onto the hard floor of the van.

"Geeze, you mother fuckers, would you slow down?" Ray grumbled, peeling himself off the floor he'd just kissed. When he peeked his head above the back of the middle bench, however, he was not met with his band mates. Instead he found himself staring down the barrel of two guns.

"Hehe," Ray stuttered nervously. "Cute guys. What, did you pick up water guns at the gas station?"

One of the men shot, missing Ray by centimeters, and blasted a hole in the back bench seat.

"Holy shit!" Ray squeaked, throwing his hands up and cowering down a bit. "What the actual hell? Who are you guys?"

The one guy flipped up the mask of his motor cycle helmet, which he was-for some reason, wearing inside the van. He leaned in close to Ray and studied him with sharp eyes. Ray thought his face looked familiar, but… no. It couldn't be. Suddenly something in the man's expression changed.

"Party, Jet, pull over this high way pony and take a peek at our stowaway," the man called, turning to the front.

"What's shaking Kobra, you look like you just faced Korse himself!" the other man sitting next to the guy who's name may or may not have been Kobra, exclaimed. That guy's voice sounded familiar, but Ray had no idea what these guys were talking about! Party, Jet, high way pony, Kobra, Korse? What the hell were they talking about!?

The van jerked suddenly off the road and Ray flew across the bench and hit his head on the window.

"Shiit…" he mumbled, holding his head. His vision began to get fuzzy and he prayed that he wouldn't pass out in front of these loons. Who knows what they would do to him? He must have hit his head really damn hard because suddenly he threw up!

"Unsanitary projectiles spewing from the stowaway!" the man called Kobra yelled out, and suddenly Ray had four strong hands pulling him out of the van. They dropped him down on the gravel next to the road and he finished throwing up. When he looked up there was another gun pointed at him, but he tried not to show his fear. He took a better look at his kidnappers and saw that they looked… pretty damn ridiculous.

"What the hell…?" a man in a space helmet and colorful clothing gasped out. Through the mask Ray couldn't see his face, even when the helmet man leaned in close.

"Who are you? Are you a clone? A draculoid!?" a man with red hair and a yellow mask screamed at Ray, the gun in his hands shaking. The gun, however, was painted bright yellow, which made it a bit less intimidating.

"If you don't put that gun away, you're going to get yourself arrested," Ray informed him. "The cops don't play with that kinda stuff,"

"Dudes, what the hell is going on?" a guy in a frankenstein mask asked.

"I have no idea, Ghoul," Kobra sighed, pulling off his helmet and running a hand back through his blonde hair. Oh my God, there was no mistaking it. The hair was different… and he wasn't wearing glasses… but that was definitely Mikey…

"Mikey!?" Ray yelled out. "What the hell did you do to your hair!?" he laughed hysterically until a force knocked him onto his back. It was the man with red hair, pressing his knee into the jugular just below Ray's throat and holding a ray fun to his forehead.

"If you know what's good for you," the man started. "You will NEVER call him that again!"

"But that's his name…" Ray argued in a weak voice. "Come on guys, this isn't funny anymore! I know it's you guys! Gerard, Mikey, Frank…" He knew the man with the motorcycle helmet was Mikey, that the matching tattoos between Ghoul and Frank couldn't be a coincidence, and was guessing that the space helmet dude was Gerard.

"But come on, who's the guy with the mask?" Ray asked, simply trying to make sense of everything around him.

"Ease up, Party," Kobra/Mikey said, setting a hand on Party's shoulder. The red head got up, lowering the gun, but continued to glare at Ray.

"I know it's you guys," Ray spat, sitting up. "Take off your silly disguises already,"

"How do you know our real names?" Ghoul/Frank asked.

"Dudes we've lived in that bus together for two years. You're my best friends! Now stop playing around!" Ray demanded.

"Party, this isn't good…" Kobra/Mikey said.

"Gerard, would you please take off that stupid helmet?" Ray pleaded with Jet. Jet and Party exchanged glances before they both removed their disguises at once. Ray stared at the men in front of him in shock. No no no way in fucking hell was this actually happening. He was still dreaming or something! And that, my friends, is when the great and mighty Ray Toro fainted in a puddle of his own vomit.

! #$%^&*

Gerard and Mikey were both getting coffee and Frank had emerged from the bathroom when Frank ran into the gas station losing his mind.

"AFDHKJDFHDSFJHDSJFHDSJFHDSKJ H!" he screamed, waving his hands around, then grabbing Gerard by the front of his hoodie and shaking him, spilling coffee everywhere! Gerard grabbed Frank by the sides of his head and they both yelled "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" in each other's faces for about twenty seconds. All while Mikey ignored them, purchasing the coffee, and the cashier stared wide eyed.

"SPEAK ENGLISH!" Gerard yelled at Frank, chuckling as he did so.

"Someone stole the van!" he finally managed to yell, and this caught everyone's attention.

"What!?" Mikey squeaked. "Who stole it!?"

"I don't know! But it's gone!" Frank yelled. "Come on, come and look!" he led the way outside, and sure enough- there was NO van in the parking lot.

"Dudes…" Mikey said, suddenly realizing something. "We left Ray in the van…"

"Holy shit…" Gerard muttered.

"Wait! Maybe Ray's just messing with us then! Since we've left him behind before, so he just left us here, to scare us!" Frank offered. They were discussing that proposition, when suddenly they noticed the van hurtling through the parking lot at them.

It pulled to a screeching stop just long enough to open the door, drag them all in, and then it pealed out again.

Gerard, Mikey, and Frank found themselves squished into the van next to… what the hell? Frank and Mikey. They all looked into the back where they saw Ray passed out with something gross in his hair. The whole van smelled like sweat and vomit, and the guys looked around dizzily trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

"You guys Gerard, Mikey, Frank?" the red headed driver asked.

"Uhh, yeah," Gerard responded, having no idea he was talking to himself. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Party Poison, this is Jett Star, Fun Ghoul, and Kobra Kid. Of course you guys know your friend Ray," the ginger- Party Poison, explained. "We seem to have stolen your van,"

"Uh duh!" Frank yelled. "What the hell, man? We have a show tonight! New Orleans is another four hours away and you're headed in the wrong direction!" Frank nearly screamed.

"Dude, chill," Fun Ghoul said.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Frank yelled at him.

"I'll tell you whatever I want! I am YOU!" Ghoul responded.

"Everybody shut the fuck up!" Party yelled from the front seat. "Mikey, what's today's date?"

"Uhh, September 27th," Mikey said.

"The year?" Party spat in irritation.

"2002, why?" Mikey said.

"We're from the year 2019," Kobra responded to his past self. "This explains why everything looks so different,"

"Dude, sorry to burst your bubbles," Frank said. "But we seriously need to get to New Orleans, like pronto,"

"Got it," Party said, turning the wheel sharply and doing a way-too-fast, very illegal u-turn, jumping to the other side of the high way.

"We are so getting arrested today," Mikey sighed, slumping down in his seat. (As it turns out, only ONE of them got arrested in the end…) Magically, they didn't get stopped by any cops, and they arrived in New Orleans an two and a half hours early.

! #$%^&*

"What the heeeeell are you staring at, Party?" Ghoul caught his friend back stage and snaked an arm around his waist. Party turned and grinned at the younger man.

"I'm looking at you," Party smirked. "What the hell happened to us?"

They both watched as Gerard shimmied over to Frank, and Frank pulled Gerard in for a kiss. They broke away violently and Gerard screamed something like "WHOOO!" into the microphone. Frank slapped his friend's ass and Gerard ran to a different part of the stage.

"You miss that?" Ghoul asked. The question caught Party off guard.

"Somehow it feels like things used to be easier, even when we were all fucked up," Ghoul continued.

"What do you mean, Fun?" Party asked.

"Well, you were depressed and I was a stoner. We were always drunk, always starving, and lived in that fucking van… but even with all that shit, things seemed simpler, you know?"

Party knew. Party knew exactly what Ghoul was talking about. Party's younger self on stage may have been twenty-four, but they were all just babies. They had no idea what was going to happen.

"I kind of miss the way we used to be…" Party nearly whispered.

"You mean all of us, or just us?" Ghoul asked, referring to the flirting between past Gerard and Frank.

"Just us, kinda," Party felt embarrassed. "I miss how free we used to feel with each other. I mean, now we're free, but we're also so trapped," Party sighed, and Ghoul pulled him into a hug.

"I never stopped loving you, Gee," Ghoul whispered into his friend's hair. When Party didn't respond Ghoul sighed again. "You're thinking about Lady B and Bass Zam, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry," Party sighed.

"It's okay, Party. I miss them too,"

! #$%^&*

"Don't shoot!" Frank yelled with his hands in the air as he ducked into his hotel room. It was currently occupied by all the killjoys but one. Jet was off somewhere, but all others were present.

Fun Ghoul shot anyways, missing Frank but hitting the door behind him with a powerful laser.

"Dude, you are so paying for the bill we get for that," Frank grumbled, stumbling across the room to fall face first onto a bed.

"What's up with you?" Ghoul asked, lying next to his duple-ganger.

"The bastard ditched me!" Frank complained. "I don't even know how he disappeared that quickly,"

"Gerard?"

"He's probably being raped by some she male right now in a dirty bathroom and loving it," Frank rolled his eyes. He knew it had been a bad idea to take Gerard out on Bourbon Street. Of all the stupid ideas, that was one of the worst.

"Okay, so Gerard is lost on Bourbon street," Ghoul noted. "Where's Ray and Jet? Didn't they go off somewhere?"

"They went to get ice," Party said.

"How long have they been gone?" Ghoul asked.

Party sighed, running a hand through his messy red hair. "Half an hour," That could only mean trouble. "Does anyone know where Mikey is?"

Suddenly Frank's phone went off and he fished it from his pocket. "I don't wanna answer it," he groaned, and tossed it to Kobra. "You answer it, just say you're Mikey. No one will know the difference over the phone,"

Kobra answered the phone. "Uh, hey this is Mikey," he answered, feeling awkward. The voice on the other end sounded twice as awkward. Of course the only person who would know the difference between him and Mikey was on the other end.

"Oh, uh… hi. This is also Mikey," the voice said. "Uhhh, I kind of got arrested…"

"Arrested?" Kobra said in shock. 'Dammnit past me, what the hell did you do!?' he thought angrily to himself.

"Yeah. I'm at the police station. Could you have someone come get me?" Mikey asked.

Kobra sighed and gritted his teeth. "Yeah, I'll be right there," Kobra hung up the phone and tossed it back at Frank. It just so happened to hit Frank in the no-nos, and he rolled into the fetal position, moaning and nursing his assaulted balls.

"What the hell did you do!?" Party spat, grabbing Kobra up by the front of his jacket and glaring into his eyes.

"I didn't do anything," Kobra spat, pulling back. "It was Mikey. He got freaking arrested,"

"I'm gonna kill him," Frank might as well have growled, sounding a lot like a protective big brother, accept his voice was a few octaves too high.

"No, I got this," Kobra said, making his way to the hotel room door. "I'll be back with Mikey in a few hours," With that he disappeared into the hall, assaulting the thick, loud carpet with every heavy footstep from his dirty boots. He slammed out the back door and began walking down the road in the direction of the jail. (Don't ask how he knew where it was.) He didn't worry that he was out in New Orleans at two in the morning. He was a fucking killjoy, nothing to be afraid of.

! #$%^&*

Sometime after Kobra left to find himself (lol) Gerard stumbled into the hotel room. He shuffled his way through the room, all eyes on him, and collapsed on the bed next to Frank. Gerard passed out and started snoring, and none of the guys questioned it, although Party gave him a sad glance.

"Do you still think Jet and Ray are getting ice?" Frank asked, and Ghoul rolled his eyes before pushing him playfully off the bed. Even when Ghoul and Frank broke into a loud wrestling match, Gerard didn't wake up from his drunken slumber. 'Maybe someone put something in one of his drinks,' Party thought. 'Wouldn't be the first time.'

! #$%^&*

It happens that, in fact, Ray and Jet were not getting ice. Nor were they having hot, wild sex in an abandoned linen closet (that was for all you dirty fanfic readers). It was aforementioned in an interview that Ray has a thing for Asian women. Well when the two were out searching for ice, they happened upon a beautiful young oriental woman in a business suit. Jet looked to see what Ray was drooling over, and suddenly… Oh my battery, that was HER! The HER! The woman who was partnered with Korse, Holy fucking shit, he was lucky!

He raised his ray gun and shot, pewm, right in the back of her head. 'And never again, and never again. They gave us two shots to the back of the head…' the song rang through Jet's thoughts like an abandoned memory.

"JET!? What did you just do!? You killed her!" Ray yelled, freaking out.

"She's a mass murder and fascist from the future. I just saved a million lives," Jet said, walking over to the dead body and kicking it. "Hm, maybe this wasn't her…."

"Way to go, man. You just killed an innocent woman," Ray rolled his eyes, wincing slightly as Jet kicked the body again.

"Nobody's innocent," he spat, "You're naïve."

Ray looked up to see a curly head of hair sticking out of a door. "Ms. Marie?" a small voice, coming from the head of hair, called out.

"She has a kid!? Look what you did Jet!" Ray nearly screamed. The head of hair turned out to be a little girl. She popped out of the room and walked bravely over to the two men and the dead body. She stared down at it for a moment before crouching down to feel a pulse. Upon feeling nothing she smiled and held up her middle finger to the corpse.

"For the best," she said. Then she looked up at Ray and Jet. "You just killed the state lady who was going to take me back to the orphanage," the girl said. "Thanks,"

! #$%^&*

Kobra stashed his ray gun in a plant outside the police station because he saw metal detectors inside. One version of him was already in trouble; both versions didn't need to be. He walked into the station and leaned against the front counter, resting a hand on the glass wall between him and the secretary.

"I'm here for Michael Way," Kobra said, feeling funny as he said it. "I'm his brother," he lied. The woman didn't even question it. She just shoved a clipboard under the glass.

"Sign here," she said. "And he'll have to pay the find within the next seven days, otherwise there will be a warrant out for his arrest,"

Kobra had nearly forgotten how to sign anything, and he knew it would be stupid to sign as 'Mikey Way,' since that was the person he was there to pick up. He instead signed as Gerard in sloppy handwriting that may or may not have been legible.

A police officer led Mikey out a thick metal door into the room where Kobra was waiting. He gave Mikey a small shove forward, and Mikey walked towards Kobra with a cocky expression on his face. Oh no, that would certainly not do. Kobra grabbed Mikey by the back of his collar and threw him face first onto the counter, so that his hands were braced on it to catch himself and he was bent over. From there Kobra smacked Mikey on his jean clad ass as hard as he could.

"Ow!" Mikey yelled. "Kobra, what the hell!?"

Kobra smacked him twelve more times for good measure. Why twelve? Why not? Then he simply grabbed Mikey by the back of his collar and dragged him out of the police station. The startled looking secretary and police officers didn't say a word to them.

"Wait here," Kobra barked, going to fetch his hidden ray gun. Mikey stayed in his spot, rubbing his sore ass.

"Did I seriously just get spanked by myself?" Mikey hissed through clenched teeth.

"You fucking deserved it," Kobra responded, leading the way down the street. "What kind of moron tackles a random street performer in a unicorn suit?"

"Dude, I'm fucking drunk," Mikey groaned.

"So you weren't thinking," Kobra retorted. "Which means you totally deserved that," Mikey rolled his eyes and Kobra shot him a stern glare. Mikey responded by sticking his tongue out.

"You're such a child," Kobra said, irritated.

"Uh, hello genius. I'm YOU. And it's better than being a stuck up stick in the mud," Mikey said, jabbing at Kobra.

"You don't know what you're talking about. If you had any idea what I've gone through, you wouldn't act so immature," Kobra sighed. "You can't be a child in the future, Mikey. It just doesn't fucking work like that. I wish it did,"

"Why can't you?" Mikey asked in a quiet voice, not liking seeing his future self so sad.

"Once you're forced to kill someone, or else be killed yourself, and live in the desert knowing there's nothing you can do to help the innocent people suffering… all you can do is save your own ass and try to protect the people you have left… it changes you, man," Kobra sighed.

"Is the future really that horrible?" Mikey asked, sounding scared. Kobra didn't answer him, instead he wrapped an arm around his younger self and lead the way into the hotel.

"My ass still fucking hurts," Mikey complained when they were walking down the hallway towards their room.

"Stop complaining or I'll hit you again," Kobra warned.

"Fucked up system, this is…" Mikey mumbled as they walked into the hotel room.

! #$%^&*

"There are BL/nd workers everywhere," Ghoul noted in a harsh whisper, as he and Frank ventured out to the ice machine, hopefully to be more successful at returning with ice than the previous.

"Dude, put that stupid gun away, they're maids. They work here," Frank tried to reason.

"Very suspicious," Ghoul said, glaring around. Frank rolled his eyes. Ghoul quickly changed his attitude and got distracted with his gun. Okay, so maybe Frank didn't change THAT much. "Hey, you want to see something cool?"

"Sure," Fun Ghoul took his laser gun and pressed gently on the trigger, creating a harmless laser beam on the floor. Frank smiled and started chasing it around like a cat with a laser pointer.

"I thought you'd enjoy this," Ghoul said, smiling smugly. His finger suddenly slipped though, and his gun went off.

"OW! HOLY-," Frank screamed out. Oh God, Ghoul had accidently Frank in the foot. He stowed his gun away and ran to himself. Ghoul wrapped an arm under Frank and half carried/ half dragged him back to the hotel room. "Why did I eat so much back then?" Ghoul groaned as they approached the door.

"Don't make fun of me after you just freaking shot me!" Frank protested.

! #$%^&*

Let's recap on everyone who is now in the hotel room. There is Ray, Jet, the girl they found named Grace, and the corpse of the social worker. There is Gerard passed out on the bed, Party sitting on the same bed with his legs stretched out next to Gerard. Kobra sat on the floor near the door, and Mikey lay stretched out on his stomach across from him. They had a pile of cards between them and were playing go-fish. Ghoul sat on the other bed flipping aimlessly through cable tv channels and being ignored by Frank, who was pissed that he'd been shot in the foot.

Around five a.m. everyone passed out, and a little while later Gerard woke up. Well, okay. Not everyone passed out. Party Poison had never gone to sleep. He simply sat, staring at the wall and thinking about stuff. He noticed when Gerard stirred awake and slumped to the bathroom. He waited for Gerard to finish up before catching him by the door. He motioned for the hallway, and Gerard led the way. They walked a ways, found a way to the roof, and sat up there.

"What's up?" Gerard asked, yawning and rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"I've just been thinking about stuff, I guess," Party said. "I couldn't sleep," He tried to convince himself that he didn't have to be shy around Gerard, since Gerard was him.

"How did you guys get here?"

"We stumbled across a machine in the desert. Of course Ghoul just had to press the button, and poof. Here we are. It must have been a time machine," Party said, talking with his hands. Gerard pulled a pack of cigarettes out of nowhere and lit up.

"You want one?" he offered Party, who took one. It had been so long since he'd smoked. He probably shouldn't have broken the good habit, but too bad.

"I've been thinking about my daughter," Party said. "Err, our daughter, I guess,"

"I have a daughter?" Gerard gasped and inhaled some cigarette smoke the wrong way, choking slightly. Party patted him on the back and waited for him to calm down. Then he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a picture. "Bass Zam and Lady B, or better known as Lin-z and Bandit."

"Are they in the future?" Gerard asked, studying the face of his future wife and daughter.

"Yeah, they live in England. Or at least, I think that's where they ended up. I only pray each night that they're still alive and safe. Maybe I'll see them again one day…" Party sighed sadly. "Lin-z's the reason I got clean,"

"huh?"

"Well, that and I became very suicidal. I was at rock bottom. And before that Lin-z told me she wouldn't date an alcoholic, but I knew she was the one I wanted to marry. You never give up on something like that, ya know? So I got clean. You'll understand eventually," Party said.

"When do I meet her?" Gerard asked.

"In time,"

"How old is my daughter?"

"She was five when I last saw her. Now she should be about nine, well in the future, I mean," Party said.

"Yeah," Gerard said. "Wow,"

"I sent them to England, but stayed back. I planned on joining them, but had no idea how bad it would be. I would give anything to see them again… but with my reputation, it's better that nobody knows they exist," Party sighed.

"You're an outlaw?" Gerard asked.

"Worse, I'm a killjoy," Party responded. "Party Poison, leader of the killjoys. Infamous murderer, rebel, activist, savior, and survivor. Loved by few, hated by many. Or, at least that's the title Kobra came up with for me."

"He seems different," Gerard noted sadly. "He doesn't seem like the little brother I know,"

"Gerard, all of us are different. You can't stay the same forever. Time is cruel,"

! #$%^&*

The next morning Gerard woke up with a major hangover in the hotel room, but he didn't remember going back down there after his talk with Poison. Wait, where was Poison? All of the killjoys were gone, even the little girl with the afro and the corpse.

"Did I dream all of that, or do you guys remember it to?" Frank asked hazily, noticing a horrible pain in his foot that had to be the laser wound. It was proof that the killjoys had been there, unless Frank had gotten in some kind of freak science-fair accident the night before.

"I still have the head ache," Ray groaned, "but that might just be from drinking last night,"

"My ass still hurts," Mikey said, and when they all gave him a weird look he blushed. "It's not what you think,"

"Sure it's not, bro. You got fucked up the ass by yourself!" Gerard laughed, and everyone but Mikey started giggling. He decided to let them think that instead of tell the embarrassing truth.

"So that means everyone remembers them too?" Ray asked. "The killjoys, I mean… the other us?"

"Yeah, I remember them," Gerard said. "It was either real, a crazy coincidence dream, or some crazy ass hallucinogens."

"Hallucinogens don't shoot people in the foot," Frank groaned. "And they certainly don't have anal sex with people,"

"Shut up, Frank," Mikey rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a long, deep breath, steadying himself and reassuring his inner self that no, he would NOT attack him because he is his friend and that wouldn't be good for either of them.


End file.
